For Now, It Is Night by Hari Krishna Kaul

Author:Hari Krishna Kaul [KAUL, HARI KRISHNA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steerforth Press
Published: 2024-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

The Tongue and the Egg

The door was locked from the inside. I peered through the window slats and was startled. The room was dark, but a small ray of light from the porthole fell on the spot where my friend was tied to a post. A piece of cloth was stuffed into his mouth. His clothes were torn to shreds. As my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, I observed other things. Two young men were searching the room. They were examining the floor, emptying the baskets, and breaking open the trunks. One of the men was short and the other tall. But both were dressed alike in khaki trousers, cream-colored shirts, and cherry-red sweaters. Despite turning the room over, it did not look like they had found what they were searching for.

They untied my friend and bent down to retie the laces of their shoes tightly. I realized that they were getting ready to leave. I shifted slightly to the right and stood against the wall. They opened the door and came out. Once outside, they looked around carefully. As soon as they saw me their eyes flashed with anger. Using my wits, I pulled a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and offered them one. The short one smirked and, taking out a matchbox, lit my cigarette, then that of his companion and his own. I went inside and they sat down on the door ledge.

I hugged my friend tightly and asked him what had happened. But how could he have answered. The cloth was still stuffed into his mouth. I turned and looked beseechingly at the two young men. The short one got up and pulled the cloth from my friend’s mouth. He folded the handkerchief carefully and placed it in his pocket. I kissed his hand in gratitude and then moved back to my friend and whispered

“What is this all about?”

He did not reply. Suspicious, I forced his mouth open with my two hands and indeed his tongue was missing. Assuming a friendly manner, I put my hand in the short man’s pocket and asked,

“What is the point of playing with this man? Let him be and give it back to him.”

“Give what back to him?” he asked flicking the cigarette from his fingers.

“His tongue, of course,” I said as I passed him another cigarette.

“But I swear I have not taken his tongue. Here look at this handkerchief,” and he took the folded piece of cloth out of his pocket and showed it to me. I grasped the handkerchief and shook it. I was convinced that my friend’s tongue would fall out. But there was nothing in the handkerchief. I then searched the man’s pockets but they too were empty.

“Maybe he’s hidden it himself and is trying to blame us,” said the short one as he lit his cigarette.

“Where would he hide it? Wouldn’t it rot? If he owned a fridge, it would be a different story. Many wealthy people have stored their tongues in their fridges for safekeeping.

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